


Random Works

by leonheart2012



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Cancer, Rape, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012
Summary: 1. A young person has cancer and is thinking about it.2. A person has been abused, and is reflecting on it.3. Someone's drowning in depression.





	1. Close to the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is going to be a little different, because I have three different versions, because I don't know which one is better.

CLOSE TO THE TRUTH

Looking up into the sun, a few things ran through my head; I hope she doesn’t think I’m an idiot; I hope I don’t die on a toilet; and I really, really don’t want to have to do this.

There was a piece of paper next to me, but I didn’t worry about it. It was an important piece of paper, but I wouldn’t have cared if it had blown away on the wind.

My mother would have wanted me to chase after it, but she was in her room, crying. She’d been doing that the whole week.

She’d been there when they told me; ‘the lump is cancerous. It’s too dangerous to operate.’ And that was it. Nine words and my life was effectively over. It seemed the whole school knew as soon as we did. Everyone kept away from me as though I was contagious.

Finally, there was this – the piece of paper. Even though I couldn’t pronounce the word, I knew what it meant. Hours would be spent in the hospital, classes missed, to fill me with chemicals that would make me sick and keep me up at night.

My brother had signed his life away in the same fashion.

The repeat offences just added to my peers’ suspicions. The parents weren’t much better; they looked at me with a sadness in their eyes, their faces saying more than their words.

‘Marked for death.’

The sad thing is, it’s close to the truth.

 

CLOSE TO THE TRUTH

Sun in my eyes, I rolled three perfect thoughts around in my head; I hope she doesn’t believe me a fool; I hope I don’t die shamefully, with my skin bare for all the world to see; and I really, really don’t want to do this.

Paper crinkled next to me, and I allowed my mind to wander over the three endless thoughts yet again. It was an important document; it would decide how much longer I lived, and how I spent those hours, days and months. Even so, I didn’t much care what happened to it.

A great gust of wind sent it flying off into the sky. Mother would want me to chase after it, but she wasn’t there to rebuke me. It seemed she was making an effort to avoid me, but I knew she just couldn’t bear to look at me.

Bitterness welled in my chest – this wasn’t my fault. Of course it wasn’t. What could I, or anyone else, do to make it better or worse? Neither was it my fault that my brother had suffered the same fate.

And what a terrible fate it was too. The looks my classmates gave me were enough; as if I were contagious. My family history didn’t help either. The parents of my peers were worse; _they_ looked at me like I was an injured tiger – both pathetic and dangerous. To be pitied, but not touched. I hated them. I hated them all.

The three familiar thoughts rolled just behind my eyes, giving me a headache. An idea started to form in my head. I would show them what I was. I would write it on my skin. The truth.

Marching inside, I snatched up a small, sharp knife.

“MARKED FOR DEATH”

I smiled triumphantly. There. That was the truth. The thing they all skirted around. You can’t get any closer to the truth than that.

 

CLOSE TO THE TRUTH

My eyes watered as I stared defiantly at the sun for as long as I could. They closed on instinct and I sighed. The wind picked up and I listed to the sounds of the grass and branches moving, and the small, close, hateful sound of paper crinkling. Frowning, I tried to turn my mind from the document’s purpose.

It didn’t work. The wind picked up again and blew the paper away into the sky, and I felt my chest lighten. Mom would have wanted me to chase after it, but she was hidden away to save herself from the sight of me. It would hurt her most if I didn’t sign the dotted line, but I didn’t care. After witnessing the fate awaiting me through my brother, there was nothing that could be said to persuade me.

To those who knew me, it was as though I now had a sign above my head saying ‘MARKED FOR DEATH’. Perhaps that was what kept her away. It was certainly the truth of it. Mutations had caused this, and so now I was something of a monster; mothers snatched their children away from me and fathers shrank back into themselves, all looking at me as though I were a wounded tiger – something to be pitied, but never approached.

I resented them for it, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to hate them. Every time I looked in the mirror, I flinched too.


	2. Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've been abused, and they're thinking about what they could have done to make it not have happened.

NEVER

I say it now for all to hear. Their hands never touched me, their eyes never beheld more than I wanted them to see, their lips never grazed my skin, their words never reached my ears. They never existed, and if they did, I never knew them the way I do now.

Things were different; I said no; I fought them off; I screamed and help came; I left, fled like the morning sun. My life was not altered by them – I altered their life. I hold power over them. Everyone will believe me, and I will not be ashamed. I am a survivor.

But it did happen, and almost no one will believe me. If I told someone, they would laugh. If I left, I would have nowhere to return to. If I fought them off, they would beat me down and cut my wings. If I screamed, they would cut out my tongue.

I tell myself I’ll never let it happen again. I tell myself I’ll fight next time, scream, run, but I never do. One day, they’ll regret it – never. One day, they’ll get what’s due – never. One day, I’ll tell someone – never.

I despair, and weep, and hide – submit – always.


	3. Too Close to Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Depression and suicidal warnings*  
> A person is feeling alone, and is reflecting on that.
> 
>  
> 
> If you're feeling suicidal, or depressed, please reach out to someone.

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

I reach out, but my hands touch nothing. I’m alone, and have been for a good long while. Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother. Infected by the strains of hope, I grasp for someone to pull me out, but I always fall back down into my pit.

Others, as I now understand it, did the same thing. I kept telling myself that if they’d just reached out…but I now know what that’s like. My cries for help fall on deaf ears, and so I turn to myself, too close to touch.

I hate my lungs, that persist to breathe air, no matter how much I want them to stop. I hate this skin I hide in, wearing it like a disguise. This is not who I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're feeling suicidal, or depressed, please reach out to someone.


	4. Same Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's broken, and this is the effect of time on loss.

SAME AGAIN

The second you realise it’s broken; pulling your hands away, gasping in surprise…and it’s gone. The moment of shock seeps away and you’re left with the clarity of it – you broke it, and now it’s gone.

 _It’ll never be the same again_.

In a movie, you’d fall to your knees, but this is a moment so profound you can’t even do that right. Everything falls apart, like the shattered fragments of that thing’s life…lost forever.

_Nothing will ever be the same again._

You try to push it all back together, but it’s gone, only memories now. It’s too late, for everyone.

_I’ll never be the same again._

Your memories of it fade, and you’re left with a hollow ache, knowing something’s missing, but you can’t quite place it. There’s a shadow on your soul, where it once stood.


	5. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About how people treat people who are different.

HUNTED

I am a witch; that’s what they say. They bring their torches to my door and tie me to my house, telling me that it’s been infected by my presence. I snarl in their faces, and they are convinced – they would never do the same.

It’s not fair; I’ve been hunted for generations. My face is a twist of ugly features, my heart one to love all, my skin scaly like a lizard’s, and so I must be a witch. No normal human would have such abnormalities. Certainly not I, they think, and so they take a torch to me and my dwelling, chanting together, harmonised by their fear.

Let them alone to do what they wish – I’ll be back soon enough, and maybe it’ll be me with the torches next time.


	6. The Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Across muddy and rocky ground, a soldier walks, burdened and afraid.

_One, two, three, four…_

I counted my steps as I crossed the rocky ground.

_Five, six, seven, eight…_

There was mud everywhere. I’d only recently started counting; it kept my mind off those already lost.

_Nine, ten, eleven…_

There were so many left dead.

_Twelve, thirteen, fourteen…_

How did it all happen? How did we end up like this?

_Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…_

There were more dead than that. Many more.

_Eighteen, nineteen…_

I looked up at the sky, finally, watching the sun sink below the horizon. Even it was abandoning us, just as hope had, many weeks before.

_Twenty, twenty-one…_

My steps slowed even more, dreading the long trek in the dark. I stumbled.

_Twenty-two, twenty-three…_

Looking back to the dirt, I found my footing again, and trudged onwards. Always forward, always deeper into the darkness, behind enemy lines.

_Twenty-four, twenty-five…_

How long had it been since I’d felt the warm embrace of my mother, tasted the dishes she cooked in her kitchen, heard her voice?

_Twenty-six, twenty-seven…_

I knew I’d never make it home to remember any of those things again. Already, I was growing light-headed.

_Twenty-eight, twenty-nine…_

_I’m too young to die._ I thought suddenly, panicked, as I heard the thump of hooves…or was it a war plane, come to shoot me…or was it a garrison of armed men? My enemies? My friends?

I forgot where I was up to.

I shrugged, starting over. I still had a long way to go.

_One._


End file.
